


Back For Good

by rory_the_faery



Series: Domino [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Suicide, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-13
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rory_the_faery/pseuds/rory_the_faery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've tried for three years to fill the emptiness you made when you jumped off that rooftop... but no matter what I do, there's still a gaping hole in my life where you should be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back For Good

Home. After three long years, it seems like just a fantasy now. A vivid dream from long ago.

The cab weaves through the busy London streets…how I'd missed this city. I lean against the window, the frost brushing my cheek lightly. The cab comes to a stop and I hand the driver a stack of euros, telling him to keep the change as I step out onto the sidewalk. I open the front door and walk up the stairs to the flat.

"John? John it's me, Sherlock. I -- " 

There's a large red stain on the carpet. Blood? 

"John! John, where are you?"

I hear nothing but the echo of my own words through the empty flat. I run up the other stairs to John's room. 

Empty. 

Back downstairs to the kitchen. Empty.

" _John_!"

I hear a car pull up in front of the flat and I bolt down the stairs, flinging open the door to the flat.

"John I'm not dead, I -- "

But it isn't John. It's Mrs Hudson and Molly getting out of a cab. Mrs Hudson's face turns white as a sheet of paper when she sees me.

"Where's John?" I ask. The two women are both dressed in black and their eyes are red and puffy like they'd been crying. A funeral? For who?

There's a sudden pang in my chest as my overactive mind fits the pieces together with a click.

"No," I breathe. Molly bites her lip.

"I'm so sorry, Sherlock," she says softly.

No.

No no no noNO NONONONO ** _NO_**.

My chest feels like it's been stabbed by a thousand daggers and it hurts so much I think I'm going to throw up.

"Shot himself," continues Molly.

"You said…you said…you would keep him safe…you _promised_ …"

"I'm sorry, Sherlock. I didn't know. I would've stopped him, but he really seemed like he was okay, like he was getting better," she says.

Everything blurs out of focus and I nearly fall over. My head is spinning. I stumble against the doorway trying not to cry.

"No… _no_ …" My voice cracks slightly on the second 'no'. I slide to the ground still trying unsuccessfully to hold myself up on the doorway and as my knees touch the ground I can't fight it anymore and the tears begin to roll down my cheeks.

There's a hand on my shoulder. "He left a note," says Molly. "He wrote it to you even though he thought you were dead," she says. "I think if he knew…he'd want you to read it."

I stand and follow her back into 221B Baker street, where she leads me to John's room. She pulls a sheet of paper out from under the bed and hands it to me.

>

_Sherlock,_

_I've tried for three years to fill the emptiness you made when you jumped off that rooftop. I even got married, but she died. No matter what I do, there's still a gaping hole in my life where you should be._

_You were everything to me, and probably the reason I could never keep a girlfriend was because they all knew how hopelessly in love I was with you. It kills me, wondering if you might have felt the same way. I never imagined you would; you didn't feel things that way. But when you were on the rooftop, it was like everything changed. I'd never seen you cry before unless it was for a case. With every word of our last phone call, my heart broke a little bit more and I don't think the damage can ever be repaired._

_There's only one other thing to make the hurting stop._

_Goodbye, Sherlock. Maybe I'll see you again in heaven or nirvana or hell, wherever it is we're going. I love you._

_John._

>

The note trembles in my hand. "Molly," I say. "I think you should go."

She looks at me for a moment. "Sherlock…"

"Leave. Now."

 

**GENIUS BACK TO THE GRAVE FOR GOOD**   
_Sherlock Holmes was found dead today, November 14th 2013 at 221B Baker street. The former consulting detective, previously believed to have committed suicide three years ago by jumping off the rooftop of Saint Bart's hospital, is said to have returned home after three years of living underground, and upon returning, found that his flatmate (rumoured to be his significant other) had shot himself. Holmes was found by his landlady, hanging from a noose in what appeared to be suicide. Authorities have confirmed it to be Holmes' body._


End file.
